


dreaming (are you thinking what i'm thinking?)

by wolfsupremacist



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsupremacist/pseuds/wolfsupremacist
Summary: They could not be more different, the pair of them.Everything about them seems to be opposite, and maybe that’s the draw, the electric thrall that binds them together on the day they meet.Of course, Kun always liked a bit of a challenge, an unstoppable force to upset his inertia, and Ten proves to be all that and far, far more.





	dreaming (are you thinking what i'm thinking?)

**Author's Note:**

> to mishel ♡
> 
> (also just to avoid any confusion, dates are in day/month/year order)

They could not be more different, the pair of them.

Everything about them seems to be opposite, and maybe that’s the draw, the electric thrall that binds them together on the day they meet. 

Of course, Kun always liked a bit of a challenge, an unstoppable force to upset his inertia, and Ten proves to be all that and far, far more.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[16/4/16]  
7:33 PM_

Kun goes out. He _does_.

“You don’t go out,” Sicheng’s gentle, prodding voice says. “You never go out.” 

“I go out,” Kun repeats. 

Kun is cleaning his kitchen, as he’s wont to do on Friday evenings. He was never much of a partier, preferred the quiet even in college. It’s a miracle he escaped with as many friends as he did, but those same friends never stop trying to drag him out of his habits, no matter how well-established. 

“If you went out, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Sicheng says. “What are you doing? Organizing your spice rack while drinking white wine?” 

Kun frowns as he looks at the shelves of his refrigerator, resting across the sink, and his truly massive glass of white zinfandel. Not white, per se, but close enough. 

“Your silence is telling,” Sicheng says. “Finish the glass, and go get a shower.” 

“Why?” 

“Because Yukhei and I are having a small get together, and I want you to come,” Sicheng says. “And I’ll sit and play Scrabble with you in the bedroom if you decide you’re not having fun.” 

Kun shifts his weight from foot to foot as he thinks. He’s already in his comfy pants. It was a long week at work, and his head sort of hurts. But he hasn’t had a good opponent for Scrabble in forever, and Sicheng has a great vocabulary.

“ _Come_ ,” Sicheng needles cutely. 

“Fine,” Kun says, and he puts the phone between his shoulder and his ear, grabbing a shelf from the sink. “If I get drunk, I’m staying over. And I’m making you guys sleep on the floor.” 

“Yay!” Sicheng cheers, and then distantly, “He’s coming!” 

“Yay!” says Yukhei’s high-pitched shriek. 

Kun shoves the fridge shelf back where it belongs, already regretting his decision.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_8:24 PM_

Sicheng opens the door and immediately grimaces. 

“What?” 

“You look...look, I’m not trying to be rude here, but you look like my dad,” Sicheng says. 

“I do not.” 

“You do.” 

“I don’t.” 

Yukhei pops his head out, smiles broadly at Kun before pointing a long, skinny finger at him and cackling loudly. “Babe, he looks like your dad.” 

“Okay, assholes,” Kun says, and he pushes past the two and into the apartment. 

Predictably, he is the first to arrive, so he goes to their kitchen and starts to scan for something he likes: Yukhei’s shitty beer, Sicheng’s good beer, and _bingo_. Trashy boxed wine. Sicheng’s arms wrap around him from behind, and Kun groans. 

“Don’t be mad at me,” Sicheng says, and God, it is annoying how cute he is. 

“I’m not mad,” Kun says. 

“No, but you’re gonna be.” 

Kun turns slowly, horrified to see Sicheng looking at him like a guilty puppy, and oh my God, he’s fallen right into the most obvious trap in the entire world. “No,” he says. “No. Please.” 

“He’s super cute!” 

“I don’t care,” Kun says. “This has got to stop.” 

“He teaches dance!” 

“So?” 

“So he’s like, graceful, I don’t know. Come on, please?” 

Kun makes a put-upon noise, and Sicheng cheers. 

“Yay,” Sicheng says, squeezes Kun tight around the middle. “Come to my room?” 

“What I’m wearing is _fine_ ,” Kun says, but he’s led off by the hand anyway, much to his dismay. 

They pass Yukhei, slumped on the couch, bare feet kicked up onto the coffee table, and Yukhei gives them a little thumbs up as they pass. Kun wants to flip him off, but at the same time, he can’t say he doesn’t appreciate the gesture. This is their stupid way of showing that they care about him. Sometimes, he just wishes they cared a bit less.

“Okay,” Sicheng says, shutting the door, cheeks already blushing red as he smiles happily. “Take your sweater vest off.” 

“I like the sweater vest,” Kun argues.

“Take it off,” Sicheng orders. “Play along.” 

Kun rolls his eyes, pulls the vest up and over his head, throwing it to the bed. “What’s next, then?” 

“Hm,” Sicheng hums, a hand under his chin, and he walks around Kun, studying him. “Shirt’s okay. Unbutton the top two buttons.” 

Kun huffs. “One,” he bargains. 

Sicheng laughs in his face. “You’re lucky I didn’t start with three.” He snaps his fingers. “Two buttons. Go.” 

Kun huffs, immediately unbuttoning his top two buttons. 

“Ah, look at you now,” Sicheng says, brushing his hands down Kun’s sides. “You’ve got a figure under there. And a neck too!” 

“Shut up,” Kun says weakly. 

“Can I do hair stuff?” Sicheng asks, but it’s a formality more than anything at this point. What Sicheng wants, Sicheng gets. 

“Whatever,” Kun says, heading to the bathroom. He knows the drill, after all. “Just don’t do a ton of hairspray, okay?” 

“No hairspray,” Sicheng smiles, and God, no wonder he always gets what he wants. He’s the most beautiful person in the entire fucking universe. 

Kun closes his eyes, holds back a moan when Sicheng starts to pet through his hair. Maybe they’re right, Kun thinks. Maybe it’s been entirely too long. Maybe he needs something. Anything.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_10:56 PM_

Something, anything’s name is— 

“You can just call me Ten,” he says, a little smirk on his face. 

Kun decides he doesn’t like him within fifteen seconds of knowing him, but he’s a good judge of character. He knows a mischief-maker when he sees one, and Ten drips with it from every pore. From the way he shakes Kun’s hand to the way he smiles at him, it’s all laced with something that Kun doesn’t trust. 

He nearly corners Sicheng after the party really picks up, asking him what the fuck he was thinking, but he knows that would be rude. Kun may be a lot of things, but rude he is not. He’ll play along, play nice. He’ll do as they ask of him. 

“Do you work out?” Ten asks, running his hand along Kun’s bicep. 

“What?” 

“I asked if you work out,” Ten says. 

“No, yeah, I mean...I heard what you said,” Kun says. “I’ve just, like, never been asked that before.” 

“Probably because you’re fat,” Ten says, and Kun snorts. “Well, you are.” 

“I am not,” Kun argues. 

“You’re fatter than me,” Ten says. 

“Everyone on Earth is fatter than you,” Kun says, and he looks up and down Ten’s body, knobby and thin. “Do you eat?” 

“Stop body-shaming me,” Ten says, covering himself up with his arms. 

“You called me fat!” 

“That’s statement of _fact_ ,” he smiles. 

Kun rolls his eyes, takes a dramatic sip of his wine, and strangely, feels the desire to keep pushing against where Ten is pushing at him.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_12:45 AM_

Kun doesn’t get drunk, but he holds a pleasant buzz throughout the evening. He doesn’t need to stay over Sicheng’s, but he does stay until the party is over, holding the trash bag open as Yukhei jump-shots empty solo cups into it. He should have known. There’s no such thing as a small get-together with Yukhei, though for him, Kun thinks this was probably tame. 

“So, what did you think?” Sicheng asks, needling as he gathers up the rest of the garbage from all available surfaces.

“I had fun,” Kun says. “Thanks for having me.” 

“You’re not funny,” he says, hitting him in the head with a paper plate. “What did you think of Ten? Once you started talking, you, like, didn’t stop. Which is weird for you.” 

“Why’s that weird? I’m not a _hermit_.” 

“You’re sort of a hermit,” Yukhei says. 

“I’m _not_.” 

Sicheng gathers Kun up into his arms, petting through his hair. Sicheng smells vaguely of beer, and it’s comforting, so Kun allows himself to be embraced and thus, protected. 

“You’re just not very extroverted,” Sicheng says, running his hand through Kun’s hair again. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. We were just—” 

Kun looks up at Sicheng with critical eyes. “Just what?” 

“Just seeing,” Sicheng sing-songs, “if maybe you two…” 

“Were thinkin’ about boning down,” Yukhei finishes. 

“What did I say? I said _sensitive_ ,” Sicheng says. 

“What’s more sensitive than boning down?” 

“We’re not boning down,” Kun says flatly. “And, uh, actually, all that white wine is starting to give me a little headache. Could I—” 

“Advil’s in the bathroom,” Sicheng says, pushing him off. “Go, go. We’ve got this.” 

Kun walks off, listening to the interesting sound of Sicheng grabbing Yukhei by the ears, scolding him quietly, as if Kun can’t hear. He puts it out of his mind, and once he reaches the bathroom, he turns the faucet on and puts his hand under the running water, scrubbing away the last vestiges of Ten: a ten digit phone number written in blue ink.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[12/7/16]  
3:32 PM_

In the middle of the July heat, he’s out of garlic, which warrants a national emergency for Kun. He’s sweating as he walks into the Trader Joe’s, and he’s forced to brush it away with his hand before wiping it grossly on his shorts. Of course, the siren’s song of Trader Joe’s means that he shops a little, picking up his garlic, but also throwing the white cheddar popcorn and the Green goddess dressing he likes into his little basket. He’s standing in the bakery section, staring at a dark chocolate ganache cake that is calling for him, when he catches movement out of his peripheral. He looks next to him and sees— 

He’s wearing a tank top, but even “tank top” seems like a generous estimation of the small shred of clothing falling off of him. It seems to be a homemade job, the shirt sleeves cut off so low that if Kun was looking (which he isn’t, mind you), you could see the dark pink of his nipples. He’s wearing his hair forward, wet, like he just got out of the shower. There’s a fanny pack around his waist, and it would look bad on anyone besides Ten. 

Kun spends a little too much time staring at him, and quickly, he tries to look away. 

That only triggers his gaze, and then, his eyes go wide. 

“Oh shit,” Ten says, “what a fun coincidence.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Kun says. “Crazy.” 

Kun doesn’t know why it feels so awkward, like he’s—like he’s slept with Ten or something, but that’s exactly what it feels like. Like seeing a one night stand out in the wild. Kun tries to shake the feeling away, since they...God, they didn’t even get _close_. 

He turns, about to make a run for it, but Ten doesn’t let him off that easily, of course. He already knows there’s nothing easy about Ten. 

“You never called me,” he says. 

The initial bluntness of it catches Kun off guard. Normal people don’t say what they’re feeling like that. Normal people shroud things in pleasantries. They don’t call you out on shit to your face, only behind your back. In group texts and the like. 

“Oh, yeah, uh,” Kun stutters, “sorry.” 

“That’s cool,” Ten says with a laugh. “I didn’t expect you to. I _did_ , however, expect a text, but I didn’t get one of those either.” Kun runs a hand across the back of his neck. “Unclench, I’m not gonna jump on you.” 

“I-I didn’t think you were going to jump on me,” Kun says. 

“I forgot,” Ten says. “That’s just your face.” 

Kun frowns. “Are you always rude?” 

“It’s part of my natural charm,” Ten says, and Kun wants to refute it. Wants to. “What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you at any of their parties.” 

Sicheng asks, of course, but there’s only so much that Kun will allow. 

“I don’t really like parties,” Kun says. 

“No shit,” Ten says with a little laugh. “Why’d you go to that one, then?” 

“I was tricked.” 

“Huh.” 

Ten turns back to the cake, and seemingly, the conversation has ended. Kun furrows his brow, overwhelmed by the thought that he doesn’t actually _want_ it to end. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers. 

Ten hesitates for a second before picking up a personal chocolate cake and setting into his basket. “What are you sorry for?” 

“I dunno.” 

He smiles as he looks up at Kun. “Then don’t say sorry.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. “Sorry.” 

It jars a laugh out of Ten, and Kun likes that. His smile. 

“You do that a lot?” Ten asks. “Say sorry when you don’t have anything else to say?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Bad habit.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says, biting his lip between his lips before he adds, “sorry.” 

Ten laughs, looks at Kun’s mouth and his smile closes as his eyes slide down Kun’s body. He hesitates again before he reaches to his waist, unzips his fanny pack, pulling out a pen with a little cartoon cat as the cap. He bites the cap between his teeth before grabbing Kun’s hand between his own. 

The tip of the pen glides over Kun’s palm, tickling as it goes, and he resists the physical urge to pull his hand away until Ten is through with him. 

Ten caps the pen again, shoving it away into his back with a satisfied look. 

“There,” he says. “And if you don’t text this time, I’ll take the fuckin’ hint.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[14/7/16]  
9:39 PM_

Kun does not know the appropriate amount of time to wait before texting someone, but when he texts Xiaojun for advice, he only gets _if u wanna talk to them, then talk to them!_ and a few blushing smiley emojis in response, which on the whole, isn’t very helpful at all. 

It’s strange, of course. Makes no sense to him. Ten is loud. Brash. Bitchy. And that doesn’t appeal to Kun. Or, well...it’s never appealed to him before now. Objectively, he knows it’s a bad idea to get involved with someone so flighty, but subjectively, he knows that he wouldn’t have added Ten to his contacts if he wasn’t somehow invested. 

There’s no way around it, he realizes. He’ll have to ask Sicheng. 

He looks predictably beautiful when Kun FaceTimes him, hair pushed back by a fuzzy headband with cat ears, skin glowing. Kun feels gross, comparatively, so he tightens the hood around his head so all Sicheng can see are his eyes. 

“Hi,” Sicheng says breathlessly. “What’s going on, baby?” 

“Nothing,” Kun says. “Just thought I would get your opinion on something.” 

“You mind if Yukhei listens?” Sicheng asks, flipping the phone to show Yukhei hunched at the edge of the bed, PS4 controller in hand. “Say hi, Yukhei.” 

“Hi, Yukhei,” he says mindlessly. 

“Yeah, it’s fine if he listens,” Kun says. “It’s stupid anyway.” 

“Nothing you say is stupid,” Sicheng says happily. “What’s up?” 

“How long is it appropriate to wait before texting someone?” 

Sicheng’s face does not shift at all until the smile free falls down and his brows follow, furrowing. “Texting someone? Who are you texting?” 

“Well, no one yet,” Kun says. 

“Oh my god,” Sicheng says, and he hurriedly pulls off his sweatband, runs his free hand through his hair. “Oh my god, it’s happening, Yukhei. Code pink. Code pink!” 

Yukhei shrieks in the background, and Kun hears the clattering of a controller falling to the floor, and suddenly, Yukhei vaults into frame. “ _Code pink_!” 

“Wait, isn’t code pink, like, about babies?” 

“Precisely,” Sicheng says with a smile. 

“I literally hate you.” 

“So continue. Boy problems,” Yukhei says, pointing dramatically into the camera, “ _you’ve_ got ‘em.” 

“If you start quoting more Carly Rae Jepsen at me, this call will be ended.” 

Yukhei mimes his mouth being zipped closed.

“When do you think I should text?” Kun asks. 

“Did you fuck?” Yukhei asks. 

“No,” Kun says. “No fucking.” 

“Hm...a quandry,” Yukhei says, tapping his chin. 

“Most people like feeling wanted,” Sicheng says with a shrug. “I don’t think it’s bad to text right away. If you’re worried about seeming eager, you could always wait a day.”

“It’s been two days.”

“Oh my god,” Sicheng says. “Text him! Text him!” 

“Hurry, hurry!” Yukhei cheers. 

“I don’t know what to say!” 

“Say anything! Go, go! We’re in your corner! We love you! Let us know how it goes!” 

“Bye!” Yukhei says, his freakishly long finger reaching up to tap Sicheng’s screen, the call dropped. 

Kun groans, flopping back into bed, holding his phone over his face. Before he loses his nerve, he swipes to Ten’s contact information, quickly navigates to iMessages, and applies the Fuck It Adjustment. _When faced with a problem….say ‘fuck it.’_

Instead of laboring any further over greetings, emojis, and conversation starters, Kun simply writes _hi_ , sending the text on its way before anything gets in his way, himself chief among culprits. 

It is later that same evening when Ten finally texts back, another simple _hi_ , but for some stupid reason, Kun’s stomach leaps into his throat, and he can barely keep himself flat in bed as he types out his answer.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[30/7/16]  
7:32 PM_

They text a lot. And even that is an understatement. 

Kun usually sends the first text of the morning, but that’s because his commute is insane, so he’s up pretty early. Ten answers after he’s awoken, and they banter throughout the day. Horrifically, Kun finds himself looking forward to Ten’s comments, his snaps. Ten is beautiful, of course, and whenever Kun sees his face, he feels a pull in his stomach, the kind that screams _want_. 

He doesn’t know what he wants, though. 

It is two weeks or so later when Ten invites him out for a drink, and it reminds Kun of how different they are. There’s something casual and cool about that, _going out for a drink_ , and Kun feels so out of his element as he stands in front of his closet, pouring over what to wear. He tries to channel Sicheng, because he knows if he calls, he would get an investigation of the highest caliber.

He carefully considers his options, but he feels stupid doing so—he’s got nothing that makes him look even remotely how he thinks he should look. In the end, he settles on his nicest pair of jeans and a t-shirt, doing his hair the way Sicheng always does: up and out of his face. He doesn’t look awful, but he feels awful, ridiculous and stupid as he looks at himself in the mirror. Not a great outlook to have for a first date. 

Or is it even a date? Kun isn’t sure. They’ve certainly been _flirtatious_ , Ten especially, but there’s been no discussion of anything beyond that. And Kun isn’t the type to rush into anything, but he doesn’t want to be led on, or worse, be used for free drinks.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_8:54 PM_

When he walks into the bar, he is immediately taken aback. It is extremely laid back. There’s no real crowd, just a few people sat at the bar, a few groups at some picnic bench-style tables. It’s a distinctly hipster place, the typical brick, exposed ductwork, and chalkboard wall for this part of the city, but it’s not overrun. Kun feels a bit more relaxed, searches for Ten for a moment before finding him staring at his phone, a glass of beer next to him. Kun smiles, heading over. 

“Hi,” he says. 

Ten looks up, looks Kun up and down. “What are you wearing?” 

Kun frowns, looks down at his own attire. “I don’t know. A t-shirt and jeans?” 

“For a first date?” Ten scoffs. “Weak. Extremely weak.” 

Kun’s heart jumps into his throat, and he can’t seem to clear it, especially not when he looks at Ten, It’s warm in the city, still sticky with summer heat, but Ten is wearing dress pants anyway, a dark wine-colored, silk-looking shirt unbuttoned to expose a bit of his chest. He looks...he looks like a sin waiting for a willing partner. And if Kun was unsure if he was willing before, he’s sure now. 

“Sorry,” Kun says. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure if this was a date or not.” 

“Ah,” Ten says with a little smile. “You’re forgiven. Although, just to be honest with you in exchange, I don’t text people every day if I’m not trying to date them.” 

“Oh,” he smiles back. “Right.” 

“Right.” 

The bartender approaches, slides Kun a beer list, and there’s a bunch of craft stuff that he has no idea how to pronounce. “What’s good?” he asks, looking at Ten’s beer. “Is that good?” 

“I got it for show mostly,” Ten smiles. “I’m not really much of a drinker.” 

“You invited me for a drink,” Kun says. 

“Well, it was the least highkey option. You don’t really seem like you need anymore highkey in your life.” 

“What exactly are you saying?” 

“You’re like a baby bird. You know what I’m saying?” 

“I have no idea what you’re saying.” 

“I’m saying you’re sort of...easily agitated,” Ten says with a vague wave of his hand. 

Kun laughs, feels that same incredible swelling of energy in his stomach that he felt the first moment he met Ten. This is someone he wants to fight every single day of his fucking life. 

“Well, you agitate people,” Kun says. 

“Guess that makes it a bad idea to date me, huh?” Ten smirks. 

“Terrible idea.” 

“But you’re gonna do it anyway.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. “I think so.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[4/8/16]  
7:16 PM_

He has to hurry to lick along the side of the cone before it drips, but it’s fine. He’s got a system. 

“Oops,” Ten says. “Other side.” 

“Oh my god,” Kun says, hurriedly turning his hand to lick the drip away. “There. We’re good.” 

It’s cooler at night, along the water, and they sit on the bench to eat their ice cream. The river is pretty at night, the boathouses all lit up. And it’s romantic. All of it. The breeze that ruffles Ten’s hair, makes him reach up to pet it down. The light that makes his skin shine, glow. The sound of laughter, the sound of the water. The way Ten looks. The way he breathes life. 

Suddenly, Ten reaches out and grabs Kun’s hand in his, still staring out at the water. Pleased, as he was just thinking of doing something similar, Kun looks down at where they touch, their fingers laced together. 

“You were staring,” Ten says. 

“Sorry,” Kun says. 

“Nah, you’re not sorry.” 

“No,” Kun says. “Not really.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[12/8/16]  
5:33 PM_

Kun rests the phone between his ear and his shoulder, pulling his own laundry out of the dryer. 

“How serendipitous,” Ten’s smooth voice says into his ear. “I was just calling to see if you wanted to accompany me to the dry cleaners to pick up some stuff.” 

“That’s not really much of a date,” Kun says, trying to press Ten’s buttons. But honestly, Kun doesn’t even know if Ten has buttons to press. 

“Dry cleaning is only part one of the plan. Part two is that there’s a pizza place right next to it,” Ten says. “And part three is that it’s not far from my place. We could watch a movie or something.” 

“Okay. That, uh, that sounds good. Dress code?”

Ten snorts. 

“Wear whatever you’re wearing now,” he says. “Or sweats, if you’re naked.” 

“Why would I be doing laundry while naked?” 

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re into. Yet.” 

Kun’s stomach clenches at the _yet_ , the promise of it.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_6:22 PM_

Ten must visit the pizza place a lot because the woman working at the front smiles at him and asks about how work is going before yelling to the back to throw in an order of garlic bread, free of charge. Ten doesn’t actually let Kun order, which is funny, but Ten seems to know his way around the place, so Kun lets him get what he wants: a large with extra cheese and sausage. Plus, he pays, even though Kun offers. 

Kun carries the pizza while Ten carries his dry-cleaning, and they walk back to Ten’s apartment building quietly. Kun follows Ten up the stairs, and after Ten toes his shoes off, Kun does too. The city still hasn’t come alive for the evening as he settles down on Ten’s couch, the pizza set on the coffee table in front of him. 

“You want a beer?” Ten asks, walking off to the kitchen. 

“I thought you didn’t do beer.” 

“You do, though,” Ten calls, and before Kun can feel appropriately twitterpated about that, “you want it or no?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Ten pads back to the living room with two beers in his hand, and Kun smiles as Ten pops the caps open, using his shirt for leverage. Ten holds the beer out for Kun to take, but just as Kun reaches out, he pulls back a bit. 

“Do you like _Alien_?” 

“What?” 

“I asked if you liked _Alien_.”

“Like, with Sigourney Weaver?” 

“Yes, idiot,” Ten says. “ _Alien_ with Sigourney Weaver.” 

“Well, aren’t there like a hundred Alien movies?” 

“Yeah, but there’s only one _Alien_ ,” Ten says. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Ten looks at him expectantly. “What?” 

“Oh my fucking god, Kun. Do you like _Alien_?” 

“Oh,” Kun says. “Yeah, it’s good.” 

Ten smiles, hands Kun the beer. “Correct answer.” 

“There’s no wrong answers when opinions are involved,” Kun says. 

“That is incorrect,” Ten says. “You either like _Alien_ , or you are wrong.” 

Kun rolls his eyes, but Ten sits beside him, his legs tucked underneath him, leaning into Kun’s space. It’s intimate, the closest they’ve ever been, and holy shit, Kun realizes, he’s _in Ten’s apartment_. And maybe Ten invited Kun over with the intention to sleep with him, maybe he just totally missed the fucking signal. It’s probably bright red and obvious to anyone else, but shit like that—he’s not good at shit like that. 

“Unclench,” Ten says, leaning forward to pop open the pizza box and grab a slice. “I’m not gonna jump on you.” 

“Stop saying that,” Kun says. 

“Then stop looking like you think I’m gonna jump on you.” 

Kun frowns, gets a piece of pizza. Ten is surprising in the best ways. And he just keeps surprising Kun. 

Ten clicks on the movie, and over the course of it, they drink and they eat and they slide into an embrace that has Kun’s arms around Ten’s body, Ten’s head against Kun’s chest. As Ripley makes her stand, gives her report, Ten stretches against Kun, sighing out, pleased like a cat, before turning to Kun. 

‘Good, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. “Really good.” 

Ten hums, puts a hand on the side of Kun’s neck. “Is that okay?” 

“Yeah,” Kun barely breathes. “That’s okay.” 

“And if I said I was thinking about kissing you,” Ten says, eyes dipping down to stare at Kun’s lips, “you got any thoughts on that?” 

“Yeah, I have a couple.” 

Ten smiles, leans in. 

“Feel like sharing with the class?” 

Kun doesn’t say anything, only closes his eyes, and finally, _finally_ shuts Ten up. He puts his hand on the back of Ten’s neck as he kisses him softly, chastely, and Ten smells like beer, beer he doesn’t even like. Just another little thing as he quietly makes Kun comfortable, sinking into every little divot that he’s poked into Kun’s life, nudging his way in until he’s under Kun’s skin. 

Kun licks along Ten’s lips, and then Ten licks kittenishly along Kun’s tongue, too much, so much that Kun gasps when Ten kisses him hard, both hands at Kun’s neck. He moans into Ten’s mouth, lets the sound bounce between them, and when Ten pulls away, his chest is working at the same pace as Kun’s. 

“Out of ten,” Ten says. 

“You want a _rating_?” 

“I’ve already got a rating for you.” 

“Oh my god,” Kun says, and he buries his face in Ten’s chest. “Your name is Ten. You get a ten.” 

Ten’s fingers scrub through his hair as he hugs him close. “You’re stupid. I fuckin’ like you.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says, and it’s easy to be truthful when he’s hidden away into the soft cotton of Ten’s t-shirt. “I like you too.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[14/8/16]  
7:36 PM_

They go on their first dinner date two nights later, and Ten calls it their first “real date”. So Kun dresses up this time, even irons his pants and everything. Ten is a visual person, or so he says, so Kun tries his best. Does all the Sicheng tricks he’s learned, and unbuttons two buttons. He tries a third, but as he looks at himself in the mirror, he decides it looks like he’s trying too hard, so he sticks with just two. 

They go to a Japanese place in the Gayborhood at Ten’s suggestion, and Kun is struck by its intimacy. The lighting and the music, it’s soft, sweet. Right up Kun’s alley. It’s expensive too, as Kun looks at the menu, but it’s worth it, he thinks. Real dates, you should go all out. 

They order a bottle of Niigata sake, and they sip at it while pontificating the perfect order. 

“Okay, we’ve gotta have a gameplan,” Ten says. “We can’t be stupid about this, since it’s so expensive.” 

“Right,” Kun says. “Okay, what are your thoughts, then?” 

“Two entrees and a sushi roll. Bring home leftovers.” 

“That sounds good.” 

“Is there anything you don’t like?” 

“I’m not really picky.” 

“Yeah,” Ten says, “I can see that.” 

“Call me fat again, and I’ll walk out of here, and you can pay for the sake by yourself,” Kun says. 

“Okay, okay,” Ten says. “Don’t get testy. You know I like you. Hm…yellowtail?” 

“I’m good with that.” 

Ten pours over the menu more, clutching it carefully between his hands, and Kun watches him, observes him, the little ways he sticks out even when he tries his best to blend in. He’s just got this intense effervescence about him, undeniable, unable to be hidden. Kun wants—wants to bottle that. Wants to keep it, take some for his own. 

“You like tonkatsu?” Ten asks, eyes glued to the menu. 

“Yeah.” 

“You like scallops?” 

“Yeah.” 

Ten sets the menu down emphatically, smiling brightly at Kun. “Okay, you order the tonkatsu, I’ll order the scallops, and we’ll split.” He reaches out, searching for Kun’s hand.

Kun takes Ten’s hand in his, holds it gently. “Smart.” 

Ten’s smile is the brightest star he’s ever seen. 

“I know, right? I’m a fuckin’ genius.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_9:18 PM_

Kun lives close by, so Ten walks him to his apartment building, and he holds Kun’s hand the whole time. Kun thinks about inviting him up, but he doesn’t know if it’s too fast, too… _something_. Kun isn’t good at this sort of thing, doesn’t know when to do what, finds himself a bit intimidated by it all. By someone like Ten. 

“Don’t overthink it,” Ten says, and he squeezes Kun’s hand in his. 

The city is beautiful at night, in the dying days of summer, and Kun’s hand sweats in Ten’s. 

“I’m not overthinking it,” Kun says. “I’m just normal thinking it.” 

“Your normal thinking is literally anyone else’s overthinking.” Kun looks at Ten as he says it, and he sees a fond smile spread over Ten’s face. “It’s good, though. At least one of us has a brain cell.” 

Kun isn’t so sure, because when Ten smiles at him, he feels everything slide away, feels a recklessness overtake him, a kind he’s never felt before. 

“I’m gonna call an Uber,” Ten says. “But maybe…” 

They stop right in front of Kun’s building, and Ten pushes Kun against the wall, slips into his space where Kun makes room for him. 

“Maybe?” 

“Maybe we’ll kiss until it comes,” Ten says, leaning his head against Kun’s shoulder, tapping at his phone. “There. Four minutes.” 

“Oh, that sounds...like a good plan, then,” Kun says. 

“An excellent use of our time, I thought.” 

Kun can barely mutter out a “yeah” before Ten’s lips are on his, soft and sweet.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[22/8/16]  
6:12 PM_

He is standing in front of the mirror for last looks. 

“Meet me at my place, and we’ll walk,” Ten’s voice echoes through the speakerphone. “It’s super close. And literally like, it is the best Italian in the city. I swear to God.” 

“Does a grandma run the kitchen?” Kun asks, and he finishes buttoning his shirt. “The best food comes from grandmas.” 

“You know what,” Ten says, “I don’t know how many grandmas work there. Maybe we’ll have to ask.” 

Kun smiles. It’s their second real date, and it feels more real every day. He can’t seem to get Ten out of his system, and this unshakable little voice in the back of his head keeps saying that this feels different than it’s felt before. 

But when things feel real, feel _important_ , Kun usually fucks it up. 

He closes his eyes, opens them. Looks at himself in the mirror. Fixes his hair the way Ten’s told him he likes it best, like someone’s just run their hands through it. A little messy. A little untamed. 

Kun’s so used to everything being put together, clean and neat. Ten blurs the lines he draws, makes everything a little disorderly, a little chaotic. And Kun thought he hated that. He doesn’t hate it, he’s learned. He likes it, but only when it’s Ten. 

“When’s the next train coming? Tell me how long it’s gonna be,” Ten orders. 

“Yes, dear,” Kun says, and it’s a joke, but in a certain part of himself, he gets warm over calling Ten something sweet. “Uh, I gotta move. It’s here in five minutes, I’ll be there in fifteen.” 

“Oh shit,” Ten says. “Move, move, move.” 

Kun quickly grabs his keys, his wallet, shuts off the lights and locks the door on the way out. He doesn’t know if he’ll be back tonight.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_9:14 PM_

“Holy shit,” Ten says, rubbing his stomach. “I love that place.” 

“It’s a new favorite of mine,” Kun agrees. 

And it is. Ten looks especially pretty in low light, looks especially pretty sipping red wine, looks especially pretty as he laughs, making fun of Kun’s very expensive paisley shirt. The mozzarella on the top of the lasagna was bubbling and browned, layered thick with meat and sausage and ricotta. Ten ordered the saltimbocca, and it came in medallions wrapped in sage and prosciutto, mushrooms and mozzarella. It was almost too much, but they ate it all with enough room for the rich tiramisu to split between them. 

It was romantic, of course, but Ten is effortless in a way that makes Kun forget how much he likes him, how greatly he could fuck it up even with just a couple words. 

_Where do they go from here? How soon is too soon to have sex? When do they define the relationship? Does Ten do relationships?_ The questions batter and bruise him as Ten orders them an Uber back to Kun’s, but he’s soon comforted by the game plan that Ten lays out in the back of the car as he holds Kun’s hand. 

“You’ll put on _Always Sunny_ , and we’ll make out for the length of one episode before you offer me to stay the night. I will play coy, of course, but in the end, I’ll stay. We’ll shower, separately if you want, we’ll go to bed, and perhaps, if you’re comfortable with it, we’ll exchange handjobs. Thoughts?”

It’s perfect. All the options Ten gives him, escape plans for if he’s scared. And he is, truthfully, scared of being rejected and scared of offering himself up to someone, but— 

“Together,” Kun says.

“What?” 

“Shower together,” Kun says quietly. 

“Oh,” Ten smiles. “Okay. And you’ll have to get me something to wear to bed.” 

“Yeah, I can do that.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_9:54 PM_

His mouth is raw and used, and Ten looks thoroughly kissed by the time the end credits of the episode are playing, Netflix interested already autoplaying the next episode. God, he’s hard, he’s never been harder, and Ten’s hands do nothing to help the situation. He strokes along Kun’s throat, the sensitive bit at the nape of his neck, along the lobes of his ears as he writhes in Kun’s lap, twisting his hips torturously. It makes Kun think of what Ten could do to him, the beautiful ways he could pull sounds from Kun’s chest. 

“Time to get cleaned up,” Ten whispers in his ear, and it sends a shiver down Kun’s spine. 

Ten pulls him by the hand to the tiny bathroom, and it’s not enough space for two, but they still manage to fit, slowly pulling off each other’s clothes as they kiss. It’s slow, sumptuous like good food, good music, the good, _good_ way Ten can move in Kun’s hands. Buttons come undone, and Kun’s expensive paisley shirt falls to the floor when Ten pushes it off his shoulders. Kun kiss down Ten’s cheek, down along the sharp line of his jaw as he fumbles at Ten’s buttons, hands shaking. 

Ten helps him along, holds his hands still for him as he works. Ten shrugs out of his shirt, and the feeling of skin against skin makes Kun gasp into another kiss with Ten. 

He wants to shy away from the way they strip each other, but a greater part of him wants to step back and watch as Ten pulls himself out of his pants, his briefs, the fabric pooling at his ankles before he steps out of it, stands in front of Kun like a painting come to life. His eyes skate down Ten’s body on their own accord, magnet running down the length of Ten’s legs, along his hips and thighs. 

“Your turn,” he says with a smile. 

Kun backs up, strips himself down before he can rethink it and tell himself it’s a bad idea, and by the time he stands up straight again, Ten is looking at him in the most addictive way. Like he’s sexy. Like he wants to touch him again, kiss him again. Like he wants to do the best, most beautiful things imaginable. Like he can’t wait. 

And he doesn’t wait any longer, crowds right back into Kun’s space with a hand at the back of his neck, licking into his mouth like he wants to swallow Kun whole. It’s like the lead-up to something more, like something more intimate, and Kun moans sharply as Ten pulls gently at the ends of Kun’s hair, just enough to pull him deeper into the moment. 

Even though he’d never admit it, he’s thought about Ten like this. Against him. In his arms. Kissing him with intent. But even those dreams don’t compare to the reality of it. He’s lithe, moves like waves of the water. Gently rolls along Kun’s shores. 

“I don’t know how to work your shower,” Ten says, whispers it along Ten’s lips. “Or is this all you wanted to do?” 

Kun smiles, kisses Ten, again and again, before he turns the knob above the faucet, and he turns the water pleasantly warm, testing it with his hand. 

“I get shitty pressure,” Kun says as they step inside, huddling into a hug under the weak spray. “Sorry in advance.” 

“No offense,” Ten says into Kun’s ear, “but I’m not here for the shower.” 

He skims his hands down Kun’s sides, and goosebumps follow the path of his touch. It’s delicious, and he shivers into it, against it. He kisses Ten hard, holds him as close as he can. He grinds into him, nudges Ten to the side so he can leave a mark against Ten’s neck. 

“Let me touch you,” Ten says, and he reaches down, starts to play with Kun’s cock. 

Immediately, Kun springs backwards, puts a foot of distance between them as Ten stands in the spray. 

“No,” Kun says. “We can’t.” 

Ten frowns. “No?” He kisses along Kun’s neck, makes him arch back against the wall. “I thought you wanted to. Do you just wanna wash up? That’s good too.” 

“No, it’s not that, I j-just…,” Kun stutters, unable to think when Ten’s mouth is on his throat, “you’re not supposed to jerk off in the shower.” 

Ten stands back, brushes the water away from his face. “What did you just say?” 

“You’re not supposed to jerk off in the shower,” Kun says. “Come is bad for the plumbing. It’s like the worst thing for plumbing, actually. Besides, like, grease.” 

Ten smiles as he leans in, his head against Kun’s shoulder, shuddering through his laughter. 

“What?” Kun says. “I’m serious.” 

“Oh, I know you’re serious,” Ten says, but he reaches down to touch Kun with a wet hand anyway. “Come on, I’ll buy you Draino.” 

“Don’t talk about Draino, that’s not sexy,” Kun gasps. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still into it.” 

_God, yes_ , he wants to scream. _I’ve never been more into anything._

Ten’s hand twists around his cock, and pleasure fractures out underneath his skin, hot and sticky-sweet. Kun takes Ten in his hand much the same way, spurred on by the sound that Ten leaks out thoughtlessly, a little moan that sounds so good coming from him. He’s so turned on he feels sick with it, crazy, like he’s never gotten off before, never had another person’s touch stir him so much. 

It’s never felt so good because he’s never liked someone so much. 

He pumps his hips in time with Ten’s hand, groaning and then biting his lip as he tries to hold himself back. But Ten doesn’t let him, kisses him again, their hands caught between their bodies as the touch each other, and Kun can’t help himself: he comes quickly, embarrassingly quickly, because holy shit, his whole body is singing, he’s flooded with heat, and he moans brokenly into Ten’s mouth as Ten weakly works his hand through it. 

Ten’s cheeks are red, a blush down his neck, and he’s breathing heavily, a delicate thumping heartbeat at his neck, so it doesn’t quite sound as bitchy as he probably wants it to when he says “Do you always come that quick?” 

Kun rolls his eyes, redoubles his effort as he strokes Ten’s cock, and a few moments later, when Ten collapses onto him, spent and sated, Kun smiles, lets the endorphins rush through him.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[29/8/16]  
2:12 PM_

Ten’s voice is quiet in his ear, and Kun feels it drip down his spine. 

“Come by after work,” Ten says. “I’ll get food.” 

“Okay,” Kun says. “Should I bring a bag?” 

“Yes,” he says. “Stay the weekend.” 

It’s an especially tempting idea, considering the way they’ve spent the last couple weeks. It’s rare that they don’t sleep over on the weekends, but Kun always checks. They simultaneously skimming along the surface and find new depths within each other. It’s becoming more and more familiar, and Kun likes that, likes familiarity. They’ve talked about it enough to know. 

But Ten isn’t the same. Ten likes...excitement. Likes drama and welcomes change. And that’s scary, of course. When is he gonna want to change? When’s he gonna want something new? Something that isn’t Kun? 

He forgets about it. If it isn’t meant to last, then at least he’ll have stories to tell after. 

“Okay,” Kun says. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“See you, sugar.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_6:04 PM_

Ten greets him at the door. 

“That took forever,” he grouses, crowding Kun against the door as it closes behind him. 

“Trains were running late,” Kun says by way of explanation. 

“That’s no excuse.” 

“You gonna hold it over my head that I said I’d be here by quarter of?” 

“Yes,” Ten smiles. 

He steps forward, kisses Kun lushly until Kun can’t even remember his own name, and Ten sinks to his knees. 

“W-What are you doing?” Kun asks, alarmed by the leap in his voice. He’s never heard himself so high-pitched. 

“I’m gonna suck your dick?” Ten says like it’s obvious. And Kun supposes that perhaps it is. 

“What, like, _here_?” He turns and looks around. “In the foyer? Shouldn’t we, like, move to the bedroom?” 

“Who says _foyer_?” 

“I do.” 

“God, that’s so fucking dorky,” Ten says, working at Kun’s belt, unbuckling it deftly. “And I have no idea why it turns me on so much.” 

Kun’s soft, but the sight of Ten on his knees, the words he says, the fact that someone is greeting him after work with something so—something so hot, it all jumps to his stomach, has him throwing his head back against the door as Ten mouths at him through his underwear. He gets a little dizzy at how quickly he gets hard, how quickly he’s on edge when Ten’s lips suck at him, his tongue swirling around the head. 

“I’m gonna come,” Kun warns, and he tightens his hold on Ten’s shoulders as he bobs his head faster, faster still. 

Just before Kun is about to come in Ten’s mouth, he pulls off with a pop, jerks Kun off with a hand until he spills out with a moan. 

“Sorry,” Ten says, getting up from off his knees as aftershocks still rack Kun’s body. “Coming in my mouth is reserved for after we get tested.” 

It is a bizarre rule, to be sure. Technically speaking, Ten shouldn’t be sucking his dick without a condom, but Kun guesses that maybe it’s not the right time to lecture Ten on safe sex. After all, they’ve been good about it so far. Minus the oral thing. 

“O-Oh,” Kun says. “Right. Yeah, sorry.” 

Ten smiles. “Maybe we’ll do that next week or something? Do dinner after?” 

“What, an STD test?” 

“Yeah,” Ten says. “Isn’t that romantic?” 

_No_ , Kun wants to say, but honestly, it’s sweet, and Ten is still holding a palm full of his come, and you can’t really say no to someone holding a palm full of your come. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Super romantic.” 

Ten smiles brightly as he pads to the kitchen, and Kun’s back is still against the door as he hears the faucet run. 

“Is Thai okay for dinner?” Ten calls. 

“Yeah,” Kun says, mildly horrified, shell-shocked at just how much he likes Ten.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_11:37 PM_

“You comfy?” Ten asks, curling up alongside Kun’s body. “You need anything?” 

“I’m good,” Kun says. “I just...I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Shoot.” 

Kun looks down at Ten, looks at Ten looking up at him. He’s got the most beautiful eyes, and God, he just needs to ask and get it over with. 

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?” 

“No,” Ten says. “Are you?” 

“No.” 

“That’s good,” Ten says. “I was hoping you weren’t.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Kun says. “I was hoping that too.” 

Ten smiles, lays his head back on Kun’s chest, placing a little kiss on Kun’s pectoral. “You wanna be my boyfriend, right?” Kun inhales, tries to measure it, but he can’t. “Is it _that_ surprising? I would have thought you’ve been making pro con lists about it.” 

Kun snorts. “You’re not entirely wrong.” 

Ten draws spirals on Kun’s stomach, and he sighs. 

“You can talk to me about stuff,” Ten says. “You can always talk to me. That’s what this whole thing is about, right? Talking?” 

“And other stuff.” 

Ten leans up on an elbow, grins mischievously at Kun. “Other stuff?” He strokes a hand down Kun’s stomach, low, lower. 

“Yeah, like…,” and Kun is interrupted by his own gasp when Ten circles a hand around his cock, tugging gently at it. “L-Like emotional intimacy.” 

“Oh.” He lets go of Kun’s dick, curls back onto Kun’s chest. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

“But, uh,” Kun says, and he rolls them over, puts Ten on his back and snakes a hand down his body. “But handjobs before bed is included under the umbrella too.”

“Yay,” Ten grins, a hand on the back of Kun’s neck, dragging him into a kiss.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[16/9/16]  
5:12 PM_

They have been a relationship officially for over two weeks, dating for far longer, when Kun gets a text from Sicheng inviting him over that Friday evening. And Kun has the tendency to hide himself away _normally_. But in a relationship? It’s intense, the way he hermits. 

“Go,” Ten says, and Kun huddles the phone closer to his ear. “I mean, how long’s it been? A month? They’re gonna think you died in some tragic accident.” 

But Kun doesn’t know if he’s ready to tell Sicheng and Yukhei about Ten. What they have is so new, so fragile, and he’s not sure if opening that up to others is the smartest idea. If Kun knows anything, though, he knows that Sicheng and Yukhei are single-minded in their wishes, and if they wanna see Kun, they will not give up until they see him. 

“Can I come over after?” Kun asks. He was kinda looking forward to seeing Ten. Spending the weekend in bed with him. 

Kun can hear the fucking smirk, and he holds his arm around his stomach, unable to hide his smile. 

“What, you want a reward?” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. 

“Okay,” Ten agrees. “You go see them, and when you’re done, you come see me.” 

Kun’s got clothes at Ten’s now, a drawer just for him. And if he needs, he can stop back at the apartment on Saturday morning.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_5:36 PM_

When he gets to Sicheng’s, the door opens, and both of them are standing there, smiles plastered on their faces. 

“Uh, hi,” Kun says, and he takes a step back. “W-What are you looking at me like that for?” 

“No reason,” Yukhei says, and he grabs Kun by the arm, pulling him across the threshold, the door shutting behind him. “It’s been like, a month since we’ve seen you.” 

“Yeah, just been, um, kinda busy, I guess,” Kun says, and he steps out of his shoes, nudges them neatly next to the rest. “Sorry.” 

There is an eerie quiet that falls over them as they move through the tiny apartment, and Yukhei and Sicheng hover too close, like they’re expecting something of Kun. 

“Um. Can I help you?” 

“You know, you can invite us on double dates now,” Sicheng says, a little pout. “It would be polite, since it was us who set you up.” 

Kun freezes. 

“Got him, babe,” Yukhei says, and he kisses Sicheng on the cheek. 

“What?” Kun laughs. “Double dates? What are you talking about?” 

Sicheng waves his arms wildly while making a noise that can only be described as banshee-like. 

“It’s over! Ten told us you were dating,” Sicheng says. “ _Ten_. Do you know how _hurtful_ that is? We didn’t even hear it from you! We heard it from your boyfriend!” 

“Oh my god,” Kun says, rolling his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.” 

“Yes, of _course_ I’m being dramatic,” Sicheng says, and he pulls Kun into a stupidly tight hug. “My best friend! In a relationship!” 

“I have had boyfriends before,” Kun mutters, but it’s into the fabric of Sicheng’s t-shirt, muffled. 

“Yeah, but I like this one!” Kun pushes back out of the embrace, scowling at Sicheng. “Just kidding.” 

Kun shoves him back again, but then Yukhei’s arms wrap around the both of them, and he’s trapped in between two giants, and they won’t stop cheering for him. Annoyingly, it settles pleasantly in his heart, an indelible warmth flooding through him at the thought. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with telling people. Maybe what he and Ten share isn’t the kind of thing that can be split, divided. Maybe what they have is something that only multiplies the more it’s shared.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_8:44 PM_

“Don’t do that again,” Sicheng says. “No keeping us in the dark with regards to relationship developments.” 

“Okay,” Kun says, and Yukhei pats him on the shoulder. 

“You gonna go bang?” Yukhei asks. 

Sicheng slaps him on the back of the head. “ _He didn’t even tell us_.” 

“Oh, shit, right.” 

“It’s fine,” Kun says with a smile. “Yeah, we’re probably gonna have sex.” 

Sicheng’s eyes go wide. He takes Kun by the shoulders, gives him a little shake. “What have you done to Kun? Where did he go? Where’s Kun? What have you done to him?” 

He doesn’t know if it’s just because of the newness, the novelty of it all, but he feels himself relaxing, unfurling, the petals of him blooming and falling open under Ten’s sun. And it’s then that he decides he’ll hold onto that feeling for as long as he can, for as long as Ten will allow him to.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_9:13 PM_

When Ten opens the door for him, he smiles. 

“You told them!” Kun says. He pokes a finger into Ten’s chest for emphasis. 

The smile drops into a confused frown. “Yeah? I didn’t know you were keeping me a secret.” 

“Well, it wasn’t a _secret_ , but I hadn’t exactly, like, worked out when was the appropriate time to tell them.” He fiddles with his hands. “Like, when is it serious enough to start telling people, you know?” 

Ten laughs, pulls Kun in by the shoulders, shuts the door behind him. He hugs Kun close, and he smells like that fancy, expensive cologne that Kun has come to love. It’s spicy, sweet, something boisterous and warm. Just like Ten. 

“What, were you gonna wait until you sent them a Save the Date to let ‘em know we were together?” Ten says, and Kun slaps him across the butt. “Ow.” 

“Shut up.” He nuzzles closer, closer into Ten’s neck until all he can smell is Ten, all he can think is Ten. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t like a...like a _I’m trying to hide you_ thing.” 

“I know,” Ten says, and Kun can feel him smile against him. “You’re not very good at lying. Or keeping secrets.” 

“I have an honest face.” 

“You have a _cute_ face, and I’d like to see it between my legs if we ever move out of this foyer.” 

Kun withdraws, smiling brightly at Ten. “You said foyer.” 

Ten rolls his eyes, punching Kun weakly in the shoulder. “What can I say? You’re rubbing off on me.” 

And Kun hugs him closer, impossibly closer. He likes that, the way they change each other for the better.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[25/9/16]  
6:54 PM_

They’ve stopped eating out as much, and Kun is thankful in more ways than one. First, it’s better for his health, considering they always seem to order the richest, most decadent things when they’re together. Second, it’s better for his wallet. Going out to eat is expensive, and truth be told, he’d rather save than spend. And third— 

Ten tries to pull him away from the dishes, but his hands are deep in the soapy water. 

“It’ll be better if we do them now!” Kun says, and he valiantly stands his ground, scrubbing at the frying pan. 

“Sex!” Ten says. “Let them soak!” 

“They don’t need to soak!” Kun says. “Think about how great it’ll be to wake up and not have to do dishes!” 

“Think about my dick!” Ten says, and he wraps his arms around Kun’s waist. For a skinny little thing, Ten is fucking _strong_. “Think about sucking my dick! Or potentially putting your dick inside me!” 

Kun pauses. It’s been a while. Maybe they could both get a little of that before potentially…

“Metaphorically speaking, I’m gonna go powder my nose,” Ten says. “And if you are not naked on my fucking bed in that amount of time, I am going to call the police and have you arrested.”

He barks out a laugh, hurriedly toweling off his arms and turning to Ten. He is fucking beautiful, every part of him is...so stupidly beautiful. And Kun can’t resist. 

“For what?” Kun asks. “What charges?” 

Ten steps forward, kisses Kun so lushly, with so much intent, that Kun can’t stop the moan that falls into Ten’s mouth. 

“Being mean to me,” Ten says. “Don’t want that, do we?” 

“No.” 

Ten smiles, and when he turns to walk away, Kun watches the tilting line of his hips move back and forth. He waits until he hears the bathroom door close before he sprints off towards the bedroom. 

On second thought, he thinks, maybe the pans do need time to soak.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[18/10/16]  
5:33 PM_

“Please,” Kun says desperately. 

“No,” Ten says, and he turns the laptop back to Kun, all but shunning him. 

“Please.” 

“I said _no_. Didn’t they ever teach you that in school? No means no.” 

“ _Ten_ ,” Kun tries, pouting his lips like he’s seen Sicheng do. It always works for him. Worth a shot, he figures. 

“Kun, I love you,” Ten says exasperatedly, and in his heart, he knows that Ten doesn’t mean it the way he says it, but still, it sends a little thrill of electricity through Kun’s body to hear him say it. “And even though I love you, there is no fucking way that I am going to do some wack ass shit like that.” 

“But it’s _Halloween_ ,” Kun says. He looks longingly at the Minion costumes, frowns as he imagines them in them. It would be so cute. 

“Exactly! It’s Halloween! It’s a holiday for crossdressing!” 

Kun crosses his arms over his chest, pouts harder. 

“We have to pick something soon,” Ten says. “It’s literally in like, ten days.” 

“Do my thing,” Kun says. “Do my thing, and I’ll give you a blowjob.” 

“You give me blowjobs all the time. You’re bad at this.” 

Kun thinks for a moment, tries to think of something Ten really wants, but—he mostly just gives Ten whatever he wants in the moment. He’s gotta stop doing that. 

“Ready for my idea?” Ten says, pulling the laptop away from Kun and typing something in with an intense, practiced speed. And when he turns the laptop back to face Kun, he wears a devilish grin. “What do you think?” 

Kun’s eyes glaze over as he looks at the search results. 

“We have to _see_ people, you know,” Kun says. “They’re going to see us in this shit.” 

“Precisely!” Ten says. “We will be jerk it material for so many people at that stupid party.” Kun throws his head back and groans. “Does that mean we’re doing my thing?” 

Kun groans again. And Ten just cheers beside him.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[28/10/16]  
9:54 PM _

Kun figures out that miniskirts are extremely uncomfortable, and chafing becomes a real issue as the night progresses. 

“That’s because you have thighs for days,” Ten says, and he twirls his aqua-colored, shoulder-length hair in an idle finger. “I’m such a genius. Lesbian icons Sailor Neptune and Uranus for two gay legends, Ten and Kun. Like, God, you look so hot in a skirt.” 

Kun blushes, pets down over the satin, navy blue skirt. “Shut up.” He pokes Ten in the chest with a gloved hand. “Don’t get any ideas about this.” 

Ten sidles up into Kun’s space, presses the cold glass of his beer against Kun’s neck, and he guesses he didn’t realize just how hot he was, but he hisses as the chilled sweat from the glass drips onto his skin. 

“You look trashed,” Ten says with a smile. 

“I’m _fine_.” 

“Yeah, but your _fine_ is everyone else’s _trashed_.” He winds his arm around Kun’s waist, fusses with the bow on the back of Kun’s skirt. “Everyone thinks you look so pretty, no one’s even complimented me.” 

Kun tries to shy away, the blush rising through him, but he can’t, not with Ten so close to him. So _under_ Kun’s skin. 

“People have complimented you.” 

“Well, no shit, I’m me. But what I mean is...you look really fucking hot,” Ten trails off into a whisper, dipping his head low, kissing at the hollow of Kun’s throat until Kun is forced to push him back. 

You can’t hide an erection in a mini-skirt, and he tells Ten as much. 

Ten groans in response, resting his forehead against the shoulder of Kun’s sailor top. 

“Don’t say shit like that,” Ten whines. “I wanna leave.” 

“We gotta stay until eleven at least,” Kun says, and he squeezes Ten’s hips in his hands. “Sicheng will kill me if we ditch earlier than that.” 

Ten pulls back, looks at Kun through pretty eyelashes, a smoked eyeliner at the corners of his eyes. He looks—he looks _intensely_ beautiful, and Kun wants to taste. 

“Handies in the bathroom?” he asks, the look in his eyes belying his offer. 

Kun rolls his eyes, pushes him away. 

“What?” Ten grouses. “Was it something I said?” 

“Go make friends,” Kun says. “You’re good at that.” 

Eventually, he makes his way back to the punch, some Pinterest nightmare that Sicheng concocted. It’s fruity and addictive, and Kun ladles more into his cup. Sicheng approaches him then, the rest of the party raging on behind them, and he nudges his hip against Kun’s. 

“You guys look happy,” he comments. “Like, weirdly happy. I’ve never seen either of you so fuckin’...I dunno, _chill_.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. “I dunno. It’s...it’s going really good.” 

“And now I get to take all the credit.” Sicheng smiles, comets practically spilling out of him. “I’m legit happy for you guys.” 

He turns, sees Ten talking to Xiaojun and making him laugh. Kun smiles, can’t bite across it. 

“Yeah, me too.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[13/11/16]  
9:12 AM_

“Flip,” Ten says, and Kun listens. 

He slides the spatula under the pancake, prays to like, all the gods he knows, and then quickly flips it over. It lands perfectly, the side facing up a perfect golden-brown. 

“How do you _do_ that?” Kun asks. 

“Just one of my many talents,” Ten says, flighty as he brushes back hair over his shoulder that doesn’t exist in reality. “I know the perfect time to flip pancakes, I can speak four languages, and I give excellent head.” 

“Yes to all three.” 

Ten winds his arms around Kun’s waist as he waits for the second side to brown, and it strikes Kun at just how domestic they are, and in so little time. He feels like he’s known Ten forever, some elemental opposite of himself, and even though it’s only been two months and change, he feels like Ten is part of something much bigger in his life. 

It’s once they’ve sat down for breakfast and Ten is busy pouring maple syrup over his pancakes that Kun asks. Or...attempts to ask. 

“Do you…never mind, it’s stupid,” Kun says, and he hurriedly starts to slice his pancakes into bite-sized squares before he digs in. 

“It’s not stupid,” Ten says. “Ask it, idiot.” 

Kun closes his eyes, swallows as he smiles. 

“I’m serious,” he says, and he opens his eyes, watches Ten watching him. “It’s really dumb.” 

“How ‘bout you let me be the judge of that, then?” Ten offers. “Have you ever known me to let you being stupid go?” 

“No.” 

“So ask then.” 

“Do you...I mean, like, have you ever felt like this before?” Kun asks. 

“Feel like what?” Ten asks. “Like, me and you?” 

“Yeah,” Kun says, and he holds his fork a little too tight in his hand, begins to work the tines over the plate, gently enough so that it doesn’t make a sound. “Me and you.” 

Ten sets his fork down. “Will it change how you feel, if I _have_ felt this way before?” 

“No.” 

Ten smiles. Picks up his fork again. 

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Ten says, and he stabs a little piece of pancake with his fork, pops it into his mouth. He chews, swallows, and Kun watches. “I feel like, I don’t know, like...like I love you or something.” 

Kun drops his fork. 

“Or _something_?” Kun asks. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that I love you, but I don’t wanna be vulnerable and say it first without having a way to backtrack in case it gets weird,” Ten says, and he keeps his eyes on his pancakes. 

The perfect pancake. First time around. It shouldn’t be possible, but there it is. There they are. 

“I love you,” Kun says. “And maybe it is a little fast, but I...I love you.” 

Ten flicks his eyes up, meets Kun’s. 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?” Ten asks. “This is new territory for me. I’m not good at being a fragile human being with fragile human feelings.” 

It shocks a big laugh out of Kun, and he stands, pushes back from the table and grabs Ten by the hand, pulling him up and into a hug. 

“You’re so stupid,” Kun whispers, hugging him tight. 

“ _You’re_ the stupid one,” Ten argues, but he buries his face into Kun’s neck, squeezes him so hard around the middle that Kun thinks he’s gonna split clean in half. 

They stand there for countless moments, and Kun feels a welling joy inside him, the kind he’s never felt before, even in relationships prior. _Is this what it’s supposed to be? This easy? This simple?_

“Pancakes are gonna get cold,” Ten mutters. 

Kun holds him harder. 

“Microwaves exist.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[31/12/16]  
9:58 PM_

Kun holds up two shirts, gestures to Ten, who rolls his eyes in response. 

“Don’t be a fucking rube,” Ten says. “The black, obviously.” 

Yukhei and Sicheng are having a party, because they are always having a party, and Kun wants to look his best. It’s probably stupid, but he’s kinda looking forward to celebrating New Years in a way that does not include sitting on his couch with pizza and the annual Twilight Zone marathon. 

He puts the shirt on, buttons it up. Most of his wardrobe as undergone an overhaul of late. Ten accompanies him to a store and helps him find what he looks best in, what he _feels_ best in. He thought that a more tailored fit would make him feel uncomfortable, a little out of place, but he actually looks a lot skinnier when shit fits him correctly, and in turn, he feels a lot better about himself. 

Plus, Ten seems to like it, if the way he slinks across the room is any indication. Kun tries to ignore him, finishes buttoning up his shirt. 

“Fuck the party,” Ten says with a devilish little smirk, starting to fuss with Kun’s belt buckle. “Let’s have sex.” 

“No,” Kun tells him, and he tilts his hips back, out of Ten’s grasp. “We said we’d be there.” 

“But we also have been eating really well lately.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “And you know what that means.” 

“ _Ten_.” Kun is not above whining, even though it doesn’t seem to dissuade Ten because he’s _cute_ , only because, in Ten’s words, _I hate seeing a grown man whine_. Even though he does it constantly. 

“Fine, fine,” Ten says. “We’ll go. But when we get home, so help me God, if we don’t do some high-quality switch activities, I will throw you out a window and just fuck myself on a dildo while simultaneously fucking a cocksleeve instead.” 

Kun finishes up with his shirt, leans forward to put a kiss to Ten’s lips. 

“No defenestration. No toys.” 

Ten sighs, put upon, but Kun smiles against his mouth, makes the little infection of happiness spread. He kisses Ten more deeply, licks against his lips just before Ten opens to him. 

Ten begins to wind his hips against Kun’s, and that is the moment that Kun pulls back with a bright white grin. 

“Time to go, don’t wanna be late!” 

“You’re fucking evil, and also, I have never met someone so anal about being on time to parties.” 

“Well,” Kun shrugs, grabbing Ten’s hand in his, “I’m anal about a lot of things. To your benefit sometimes.” 

“Be anal about _me_! Be anal all up on me!” Ten whines, but Kun’s already convinced him. The fight left in him is more just for show.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_11:57 PM_

They’re good at parties. It’s a pretty small gathering, just Yukhei, Sicheng, Ten and Kun, Xiaojun and Hendery, Yangyang and a couple of people Sicheng knows from his dance class with Ten. Taeyong, Doyoung, Johnny. They all seem nice, and interestingly enough, having Ten at his side makes it easier for Kun to make friends. 

They get the dorky hats and glasses and noisemakers. There’s plenty to drink, plenty to eat, and they play Apples to Apples until Kun’s stomach fucking hurts from all the laughter. The television is on in the background, turned low to make way for the music. Yangyang keeps playing some weird shit Kun’s never heard before, but it’s...sort of good? Ten makes fun of him, poking him in the stomach when he finds Kun dancing in his seat. 

“It’s good,” Kun says, frowning. “Let me have fun.” 

“Yes, yes, dear,” Ten says, and Kun smiles, lets the buzz of wine sit in his head. 

When Ten leans his head on Kun’s shoulder, Kun leans his head right back, and then, somehow, even though the room is full, they are the only ones there. 

“Hey,” Kun says, and he winds his fingers through Ten’s. “I’m happy I know you.” 

Ten moves slightly, so Kun moves, allows Ten enough room to look into his eyes. “I’m happy I know you too.” 

He rests his head back against the couch, and Kun mirrors him, and then, they are just sitting there, staring at one another, the light and sound around them blaring as the year comes to a close, the new one just behind it. Three, two, one. Fresh starts for whomever wants them. 

Ten closes the miniscule gap between them, his nose brushing against Kun’s as he kisses him, makes him feel like twice the person he normally is, building him up higher than he ever thought he could grow. It sits in his heart, right in his arteries. He is imbued with an optimism that he’s never known, a weightlessness that threatens to carry him up, up, up. 

He kisses Ten again, again, and then when he’s finally finished, he kisses him once more. Because he doesn’t think he’ll ever be finished with Ten. Not really.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[23/1/17]  
9:07 PM_

The studio where Ten teaches is nearby Kun’s place, close enough that, if the mood strikes him, he comes over after he’s finished with his evening classes. Kun usually likes that, usually likes the way Ten texts him _let me in_ without any prior notice. 

But Kun’s had a bad day. 

Shit is piling up at work, people were short with him, snippy, and Kun isn’t good with dealing with this kind of stress. Generally, he bottles it up, holds it deep within himself until it spills out in the shower, and he cries until he can’t breath. And then, like, he’s fine. Mostly. 

Ten texts him, and for the first time, Kun is not happy to hear from him. _What if he doesn’t like this side of me? What if I show him something ugly, and he wants to get away? What am I going to do when the new best part of my life leaves, just when I’ve come to depend on him more than anything else?_

But Kun stares down at his phone, the little _let me in_ with a kissy emoji, and he doesn’t have a choice. 

Besides, he tells himself, unlocking the door, it’s better to get things over with now. Before he’s too deep. 

Kun opens the door to reveal Ten’s smiling face, as if he’s happy just to see Kun. It puts a little thorn in Kun’s heart when Ten blusters past, gym bag thrown over one shoulder. 

“You had dinner, right?” Ten asks. “I was gonna make a grilled cheese. Do you want one?” 

He tosses his bag to the floor, right in the middle of the foyer as he slips out of his sneakers, and then he pads to the kitchen. Kun...he should kick him out. He should tell him to go home because he isn’t feeling well. 

He sits at the table as Ten moves around his kitchen like he belongs there, and even that is beautiful, terrible and perfect. Everything about Ten is that way. He grabs the pan, the bread, the cheese, and the butter. He grabs a beer from Kun’s fridge, pops the cap off with the bottle opener. He takes a swig of it before he walks over to Kun, swiveling his hips, sliding it into his hand. 

“It’s a Monday,” Kun says. 

“You look like you had a bad day,” Ten says. “One beer won’t kill you.” 

Kun lifts it, takes a sip begrudgingly. 

“You never answered,” Ten says, turning back to poke the butter around the pan. 

“Answered what?” 

Ten looks back over his shoulder, a pretty smile on his face. “You want a grilled cheese?” 

“No.” 

“Suit yourself,” Ten says, and he lays two sandwiches into the big frying pan. “Don’t try and take any of mine.” 

Kun watches, doesn’t say much. He listens to the sizzling of the cooking, and when Ten sits down at the table a couple minutes later, two grilled cheeses stacked on top of each other. He grabs a napkin, lays one of the sandwiches onto it, and he pushes it over to Kun. 

“I don’t want this,” Kun says, and he pushes it back a little. “And I already ate.” 

“Big deal,” Ten says. “Eat the grilled cheese. I made it with love.” 

Kun rolls his eyes. 

“What’s your fuckin’ problem?” Ten asks. “You have a bad day or something?” 

“No,” Kun says. 

“Then why are you being mean?” Ten asks. “You’re not the mean one, I’m the mean one. That’s our dynamic. You’re nice. I’m mean.” 

_You’re not mean_ , Kun wants to say. _You’re nice, and I don’t deserve you._

“I’m not being mean, you’re just…,” and he doesn’t know how to finish his statement, because he doesn’t mean any of it, just wants...just wants to do something stupid, so he can justify the way he feels about himself right now. 

“I’m just what? If you didn’t want me to come over, then you should have said.” 

“You were at my door,” Kun says. “What am I gonna do, send you away?” 

“Yeah,” Ten says. “Like I’d take it personally if you need space. Like, I’m not sensitive.” 

Kun buries his head in his hands, breathes in sharply as if he can’t get enough oxygen in him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ten says. “We’re not fighting, we’re just talking.” 

“We are fighting,” Kun says, closing his eyes, even though he can’t see anything but the darkness of his cupped palms. “I’m—I’m being mean.” 

“Everyone’s mean sometimes. You wanna, like, talk or whatever?” 

Kun looks up, and Ten holds a triangle of grilled cheese in his hand, and he takes a big bite, crunching through it. 

“I don’t feel good today,” Kun says. “I had a bad day, and I’m...I dunno, when I’m like this, I’m not good to be around.” 

Ten takes another big bite of his sandwich, the half almost gone just with two bites. Ten smiles as he chews, and he talks with his mouth full, like he doesn’t even care. 

“You’re always good to be around,” Ten says. “Even when you’re a crazy bitch.” 

Kun laughs, but horrifically, it sounds more like a sob when it escapes him. Ten nods towards the grilled cheese on the napkin. 

“Eat it,” Ten tells him. “You’ll feel better.” 

Kun doesn’t know why, but he listens, and after it’s all gone, after the beer is empty too, Ten takes the plate, takes the napkin, takes the bottle. He cleans it up, takes Kun by the hand. When they walk through the living room, he kicks his gym bag into place near the door, straightens up his shoes with his foot. 

He strips Kun down in the bathroom, puts him in the shower. 

“Are you coming in?” Kun asks. 

“I’ll get one after you,” Ten says. “You do what you need to do.” 

It’s not bad to cry, Kun knows, and when the feelings overwhelm him, it’s okay to let it all go. He cries as the water falls all around him, surrounds him warmly, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel bad. It feels good. Feels cathartic. The drain spins, and everything goes down. 

He feels clean when he shuts the water off, and when he towels off, the door opens. 

“Feel a little better?” Ten asks. 

Kun nods, unable to meet Ten’s eyes. He’s so childish. 

But Ten takes him by the chin, forces him to look up before Ten kisses him softly. 

“Go lie down,” Ten says, and he holds Kun’s cheek in his hand for a moment. “I’ll be there in a minute, okay?” 

Kun goes, dresses comfortably in sweats, and he tucks himself into bed. Ten enters just as Kun’s eyes start to go heavy with sleep, and he moves silently as he dresses, picks up the covers, slips underneath them. 

He holds Kun in his arms, kisses him on the hair. 

“You don’t ever have to hide,” Ten says. “Never from me. You can’t scare me. Nothing you do could scare me.” 

“Really?” 

Ten looks into Kun’s eyes. Kun is so used to catastrophizing. Everything spiraling away from him. But when he looks at Ten, he can’t see anything but him, but the next second, the next beautiful, perfect second. 

“Really,” Ten says. 

And Kun believes him.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[12/2/17]  
8:18 PM_

There are more messy moments like that, he won’t pretend there aren’t, but whenever they fight, it is over something small, a simple butting of heads before they apologize to one another and emerge stronger than before. Kun is starting to think that maybe nothing is bad enough to wedge between them, maybe there isn’t anything that they can’t overcome. 

Valentine’s Day falls on a Tuesday, and Ten’s got class, so they celebrate that Sunday. They go to the Italian place, and they share salted caramel budino with two spoons, a dark chocolate crust underneath the vanilla bean caramel, topped with sea-salt and cream, a single raspberry kissing the top.

It’s delicious, and they walk through the city on their way back to Ten’s, holding hands, quiet as they listen to the music all around them. 

“Thank you,” Kun says, once they’re inside, pressing Ten back against the door. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

“Thank _you_ ,” Ten says, and he kisses him slowly, a hint of dessert before the meal. Sweet endings. 

They get changed even though they know the clothes will be falling off anyway, and they go to the bathroom together. Kun hands Ten his toothbrush. They both wet them before Kun grabs the toothpaste. 

“I meant to tell you,” Ten says, and he watches Kun squeeze a pea of toothpaste onto his toothbrush. 

“Oh?” 

“My lease is up in March.” And he wets his brush again. Looks at Kun. “I wanted to know what you thought.” 

“About your lease?” Kun asks. 

“Yeah,” Ten says. “About my lease.” 

“Um.” 

“If you think it’s too soon, then that’s okay,” Ten says. “I’m not trying to shock you into saying yes, I was just wondering. You have time to think about it.” 

“N-No, I just...I dunno, I just didn’t know you were thinking about it,” Kun says. “Do you...do you like my place more?” 

Ten shrugs. “It’s bigger. Closer to the studio and to your office.” 

“So you wanna move in?” 

Ten smirks, knocks his hip against Kun’s. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no if you asked.” 

They brush their teeth, and Kun makes sure they do it for the requisite two minutes exactly, flipping the little sandglass he has next to the sink. It gives him time to think. Two minutes, exactly. When Ten rinses and spits, he waits, the question he wants to ask completely obvious. He rinses, spits, and he wipes his mouth against the back of his hand. 

“Will you move in with me?” 

Ten makes a little shriek, kisses Kun hard. 

“Yes, please,” he says.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[25/2/17]  
11:23 AM_

Yukhei bursts into the room, arms full of two boxes, stacked so tall that Kun can’t even see his face. 

“Where’s the pizza?” he asks. 

“You get pizza _after_ ,” Kun says. “Go put those in the bedroom.” 

“Kay,” he says, and he trudges off towards Kun’s bedroom. 

Well, his and Ten’s bedroom now. It sends little shocks of joy through him. Sharing everything like this. He’s never lived with anyone besides roommates before, no one he was romantically involved with, and it’s a step he’s ready to take. 

There’s a list, of course, and Kun checks off boxes as the boxes continue to filter into the apartment. They’re rapidly approaching the end, though, and while they pared down Ten’s stuff while they packed over the last week, still, there is an enormous amount of boxes stacked up everywhere. They’ll sort through it. They’ll pare down even more if they need to. 

“ _God_ ,” Ten says, and he’s got two bags in his hands. “I am exhausted.” 

“You barely did anything,” Kun accuses. 

“Why have big strong friends if you aren’t gonna use them for their physical labor?” 

He opens the closet, throws the bags inside, and then crosses the room to wind his arms around Kun’s waist, kissing him on the neck. 

“Hey, roomie,” Ten says, licking along Kun’s neck as he kisses him. 

“Hey,” Kun gasps. “There are _people_ here.” 

“So?” Ten asks. 

“Yeah, so?” 

Ten springs back, sees Yukhei waving goofily at them. 

“Order the pizza,” Yukhei says. “Me and the boys are hungry, and we’re almost done. You got beer?” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. 

“Sch-weet,” Yukhei says. “Okay, continue your makeout.” 

He sprints down the stairs, and Ten shakes through a laugh in Kun’s arms. 

“I hate him,” Ten says. 

“Nah, you love him,” Kun says. 

“Yeah, but not as much as I love you.” 

“Well, I would hope not.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_10:04 PM_

It is the most exhausted he’s been in a while. 

After the rest of them left, satisfied with their payment, Kun and Ten started to unpack him, put his things away into the spaces that Kun cleared for him. It took the rest of the day, and they still aren’t finished. 

“We can get up early and finish it,” Ten says, flopping face first onto the bed. 

“Early means _my_ early,” Kun says. “Not _your_ early.” 

“ _No_ ,” Ten whines. 

“Yes.” 

“ _No_.” 

“Yes.” 

Ten turns over, beckons Kun forward with grabby hands. Kun bites his lip, but he goes, lays down with Ten on _their_ bed, grabs him into his arms. 

“Thank you,” Ten whispers. 

“For what?” 

“Just...you know,” he says vaguely. “Being you.” 

It makes Kun’s heart beat a little faster, makes his stomach twist into happy little knots. 

“Don’t look so happy,” Ten says, and he pokes Kun in the cheek. “It’s gross.” 

Kun tightens his hold around Ten’s waist, squeezes him hard as he nuzzles into Ten’s neck. He can’t help but be gross. He’s never been so in love.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[23/3/17]  
7:12 AM_

It goes smoothly, or about as smoothly as Kun could have possibly hoped for. He knew that they got along well, even with all their many differences, and it’s only on occasion where they bump up against the rough parts of each other. 

“Where’d you put my tie?” 

Ten turns over in bed, hair a total mess, eyes bleary. 

“Shh,” he says. 

“Ten, I need my tie.” 

“Look where the ties are,” Ten says. 

“Ten,” Kun says. 

“Oh shit,” he says, and he sits up in bed, one eye squeezed shut. “Was that the one we used for—”

“Please,” Kun says. “I just need to know where it went.” 

“Shouldn’t we have a designated tie just for sex purposes?” His voice is rough with sleep, and Kun wants to climb back into bed, say fuck it and take a sick day just so he can stay with Ten, warm and soft. 

“We should,” Kun says. “But you were the one who took it. So now I need to know where it went.” 

“What do you need that one for? It was so basic.” 

“Precisely. Anything else is gonna clash.” 

Ten flops back into bed, sticks his skinny little arm between the frame of the bed and the wall before retrieving the navy blue tie, tossing it across the room at Kun. 

“Happy?” 

Kun stares down at the tie, the tiny winkles in it. 

“I’m gonna look like such a mess today,” Kun frowns. 

“Sex tie,” Ten says. “It’s a good idea.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Kun grabs his shit from the table, and he turns off the small light he uses when he’s trying not to disturb Ten. He clicks the door open, but then— 

“Kun.” 

He turns, sees Ten looking back at him with a dopey grin on his face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Have a good day, babe.” 

Kun’s heart won’t stop fluttering in his chest, the sound of beating wings and hopeful things.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[20/5/17]  
2:31 PM_

The people who run the studio open a second, this time in the suburbs, and they offer Ten more money if he can run more classes there. It’s a big boost too. They aren’t struggling, not by any means, but more money is always a good thing. 

“Regional rail sucks,” Ten complained. “It eats up your whole fuckin’ day.” 

“We should get a car, then,” Kun said. 

“Oh,” Ten had said, like he hadn’t expected it. “Yeah. We should.” 

Which is how they end up at a fucking Subaru dealer, Kun signing wherever they tell him to. To absolutely no one’s surprise, he’s got stellar credit, while Ten...well, they’re working on it. 

“I can’t believe we’re gonna be cute lesbians,” Ten says excitedly, shaking Kun’s shoulder and making him smear the ink. Kun looks at him warningly. “Sorry. I’m just happy.” 

The lady helping them laughs at them both, calls them a cute couple, and she gives them each a Subaru branded coffee mug for their troubles. 

Kun drives them home, and Ten falls asleep in the passenger’s seat. When Kun’s sitting in Saturday traffic, he looks over at him, and he can’t help but smile. He looks like a little kid, worn out from playing too much at the park. 

Gently, he nudges Ten awake once they’re home. 

“Hey,” Kun says quietly. “We’re back.” 

Ten inhales, eyes opening slowly, and he smiles at Kun. 

“Thank you,” Ten says. “For today.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You...you do things just because I ask,” Ten says. “Before I ask, even.” 

“I wanna make you happy,” Kun says. 

“I wanna make you as happy as you make me.” 

Kun holds his hand as they walk upstairs, the keys trapped between them, thinks _you already do_.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[13/6/17]  
9:09 AM_

“As I get older,” Ten says, and he lets his free hand wander as they walk through the nursery, touching greens and yellows, whites, and pinks, “I find myself wanting to become a plant lady.” 

“You could be a plant man,” Kun says. 

Ten spins around, poking a finger into Kun’s chest. “Plant lady.” 

“Okay, okay,” Kun says. “Plant lady.” 

Ten smiles serenely, turning back to the rows and rows of plants. 

Kun pushes the cart behind him, watching the way Ten moves like a forest sprite through the grassy knolls. He puts all sorts of things into the cart, and occasionally Kun looks at the tags. They all have names Kun can’t pronounce, and he’s never had much of a green thumb, but the way Ten talks about it all, it makes him want to learn. 

“They call this the cast iron plant,” Ten says, and he shoves the green leaves into Kun’s face. “Aspidistra elatior can survive through most conditions. Low light. Low humidity. Bad water. Weird temperature shifts.” 

“Perfect for chaotic people like us,” Kun says. 

“Shut up. But yes.” 

Kun smiles, and Ten continues to talk about the plant blogs he follows, the epipremnum aureum, the zamioculcas zamiifolia, all the cacti and the succulents, and Kun is keen to listen, because he likes the way Ten sounds when he’s like this. He sounds like light, and it makes no sense, but sometimes feelings can’t and shouldn’t make any sense. That’s what Kun’s found out.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[8/7/17]  
10:14 AM_

The apartment is full of green now, and Kun, even though he didn’t particularly mind living without all the plants, really genuinely likes it. Ten goes around every morning with his cup of creamy, sugary coffee, sticking a finger into the pots, checking the soils. He waters what needs to be watered, opens up the blinds to let some light in.

Kun makes breakfast as Ten goes, and when he can, he watches Ten move. He’s a little fairy of life, and just watching him is enough to recharge Kun’s batteries now. 

“Stop creeping on me, you big moron,” Ten says, back still turned to Kun. 

Kun goes back to the eggs, stirring them around with a smile.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[29/8/17]  
9:07 PM_

Their one year anniversary falls on a Tuesday, and Ten has a night class out in the suburbs. It takes him a while to get home, which means Kun has the appropriate amount of time to prepare. 

He hears Ten coming, so he positions himself vaguely uncomfortably on the couch, trying to appear relaxed, and when Ten opens the door, he starts to laugh. 

“What?” Kun asks, and he unfolds his legs. 

“You look so dumb,” Ten says, and he slides out of his shoes, quickly walks over before jumping onto Kun, straddling him and kissing him passionately. It goes on forever, longer than forever, and when Ten pulls back, his lips are red around a white smile. “What are you doing?” 

“Trying to surprise you,” Kun says. “Did it work?” 

“No,” Ten says. “But that’s okay. I don’t like surprises.” 

“Me neither.” 

They kiss, kiss again, and Kun holds Ten by the hips as he continues to move torturously overtop him. 

“Wait, wait,” Kun says, “before we…” 

“Before we fuck until morning,” Ten finishes. 

“Yeah, before that, I’ve got…,” and he gestures to the coffee table. “Wine.” 

“Mm,” Ten says. “Wine.” 

“And I’ve got chocolate.” 

“Mm, chocolate.” He kisses a line up Ten’s neck. 

“And I got you a plant,” Kun says proudly. 

Ten turns around, looks at the little tree potted on the coffee table. “What did you get a Christmas tree for? It’s August. And we’re not Christian.” 

“No, but I researched,” Kun says. “And wikipedia said that balsam means _ardent love_. And I love you ardently, so...so I got you that tree.” 

Ten bites his lip as he stares at the tree, and it is sudden when he bursts into laughter, desperately trying to hide it by burying his face in Kun’s chest. 

“What are you laughing about?” Kun asks. “I thought that was super romantic.” 

Ten grabs him by the cheeks, kisses him hard. And Kun can’t argue with that—he does love to be kissed by Ten. 

“Where did you even get this?” Ten asks, and he’s got tears in his eyes. “It’s _August_.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says, and he rubs the back of his neck. “It was special order, and like, really expensive.” 

Ten smiles brightly, and he kisses Kun again. “Balsam, as in balsaminaceae. It’s a flower. Like impatiens, babe.” 

“O-Oh.” 

Ten barks another laugh before smacking a kiss to Kun’s cheek, staring back at the little tree. 

“I love it,” he says. “I absolutely fucking love it. This tree means love.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. “It does.” 

“Now come on,” Ten says, and he twists his body back, handing Kun his wine glass before grabbing his own. He clinks the rims together, makes the little _ding_. “Drain this quickly, and let me have my way with you.” 

“Kay,” Kun smiles, but all he can taste when he lifts the glass to his mouth is Ten.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[14/10/17]  
2:21 PM_

The summer has passed them by, and Ten’s moved on from plants. Well, not _moved on_. He still cares for them, lets them creep and crawl all over their apartment. But Kun puts his foot down after a certain number, and from there, Ten needs something else to cherish and care for. 

“And I’m not enough?” Kun asks. 

“No,” Ten says. “I need a baby.” 

Kun frowns. 

“You like cats,” Ten says. “Let’s adopt a cat.” 

Kun shrugs. “Okay.” 

Ten’s eyes go wide, like he expected Kun to put up a fight. And he does, on occasion. But Ten’s right. He likes cats. 

“Really?” Ten asks. “No bullshit.” 

“No bullshit,” Kun says. “Besides, if we get a cat, you have to make sure all the plants are safe.” 

Ten frowns. 

“Hadn’t thought that far?” 

“No,” Ten whimpers. “I hadn’t.” 

But they cat-proof the apartment over the month, and then, they go searching. There are couple places in the city that they go, and they’re all _crawling_ with cats, white and black and calico and even a maine coon or two, but Ten doesn’t bond with any the way he says he should. And then, that Sunday, he approaches Kun. 

“I found a cat yesterday after class,” Ten says. “I want you to meet him.” 

“Where at?” 

“It’s a place in the suburbs,” Ten says. “Will you come with me?” 

“Yeah, duh,” Kun says, and the _I’d go anywhere with you_ goes unspoken. 

They walk down the stairs, and Ten all but runs to the car. Kun hasn’t seen him so excited in a while, and it’s nice, getting to soak it in. And slowly, it does sink in. A cat? A living creature? Are they prepared for something so big? Ten was right, it’s basically like having a baby. Are they ready for a baby? 

But Kun supposes he’s ready for anything if Ten is by his side. Still, the adrenaline courses through him as they get into the car. 

“This is crazy,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. “I mean, this is insane.” 

“What exactly is so insane about it?” Ten says, hand on the back of Kun’s headrest as he backs out. 

“Our apartment doesn’t allow pets,” Kun says. Ten pauses, almost imperceptible, but Kun is perceptive. “You knew that. Tell me you knew that.” 

“Of course, I knew it,” Ten says, scoffing. 

He didn’t know it. Kun swallows over a laugh, leaning over to kiss Ten on the cheek. “You’re sweet.” He kisses him again just for good measure. 

“Alright, alright, enough,” Ten says, “I’m gonna back into a parked car.” 

“Not _again_.” 

“Shut up before I do it out of spite.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_3:20 PM_

It is 3:07 when they arrive, and by 3:21, they are signing the papers to take the little black cat with orange eyes home with them. 

“Pablo Picatso,” Ten cooed when he showed Kun the cat for the first time. “Isn’t he perfect?” 

It is an incredibly cute cat, and it purrs nonstop as it nuzzles into Ten’s chest. Kun reaches out to touch him, though, and immediately the cat hisses. He jumps back, Ten laughing at him. 

“It’s okay,” Ten says, and he scratches the cat by the ears. “It’s okay, he’ll come around to you.” 

“And what if I don’t come around to _him_?” 

“You shut your mouth,” Ten says. “He loves daddy.” 

Kun rolls his eyes, but Pablo Picatso does indeed become the third member of their family that day. Ten makes Kun stop at the PetSmart, rattling off a list of things for him to buy, and Ten sits in the front seat with Pablo asleep in his lap. 

“Hurry, hurry,” Ten cheers. “Let’s get him home and get him comfortable.” 

Kun moves through the store like lightning, only stopping once to pet a little white pitbull before checking out, the various wares tucked into the hard plastic carrier. When Kun gets back into the car, the cat blinks one eye open before shutting it again. 

Ten, on the other hand, leans over and kisses Kun on the cheek. 

“What would I do without you?” 

“Starve,” Kun says. “Die of loneliness.” 

“Yeah,” Ten smiles. “Almost definitely.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[9/10/17]  
7:56 AM_

Shockingly, the cat does not come around to Kun as Ten expected. 

Pablo _loves_ Ten, but he also harbors a healthy disdain for Kun. Which sucks, to be quite honest. Kun loves cats, he wasn’t lying. So whenever the cat walks away from Kun, hisses when Kun tries to rub its belly, or scratches up Kun’s clothes exclusively, Kun starts to take it personally. 

“Stop,” Ten says sleepily, Pablo curled into the cradle of Ten’s body, purring away. “It’s a cat. It’s gonna take some time to adjust.” 

“Make it adjust faster,” Kun says. “I wanna give it love too.” 

Ten huffs a little breath, opens one eye, and pulls Kun in by the collar of his shirt. He kisses him softly, tastes like morning breath, but Kun doesn’t care. 

“Just be patient,” Ten says. 

“Easy for you to say.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[14/10/17]  
6:44 AM_

It doesn’t get better, not within the first couple weeks or in the weeks after that. Pablo still avoids Kun like the fucking plague, wants absolutely nothing to do with him, and Kun starts to go a little crazy. 

“You’re being insane,” Ten says. “It’s Saturday, let me sleep.” 

“I just...what if there’s something wrong with me?” Kun asks, and he pokes Ten awake again. “What if the cat hates me for good reason?” 

“Then we’re totally fucked, aren’t we?” Ten smiles sleepily, eyes sliding shut once again. 

Hesitantly, Kun reaches out, tries to pet the little dip between Pablo’s ears, but the cat gets up, walks to Ten’s other side, curls itself along Ten’s back instead. 

It’s driving him crazy. 

“It’ll be okay,” Ten advises. “Sleep.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[28/10/17]  
10:04 PM_

Kun comes down with a stomach virus on Halloween weekend. It’s bad timing, as all of Kun’s timing is. He even managed to convince Ten to do the minion costumes this year, but when the party rolls around, he’s just too sick to go. 

“I’ll bring you home something sweet for when you’re feeling better,” Ten says, and he pets the hair away from Kun’s face. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can, like, I dunno, make you tea and stuff? Wipe the sweat away from your forehead? I don’t know how to take care of sick people.” 

Kun laughs, pushes Ten away. “Go. Have fun. Show everyone our cute costumes.” 

“I look like a fucking idiot,” Ten says. “Call me if you need anything. Swear to god, I can be back within five minutes.” 

“Go,” Kun says, and Ten picks up his hand, kisses it before making a face. “And wash your hands before you go.” 

“Love you,” Ten says. 

“Love you more.” 

When the door closes, Kun groans, tries to contort himself into a position that relieves some of the pain in his middle, and eventually, he settles into a fetal position, curled up tight. 

Then gently, the door creaks open. Kun’s used to that by now, Pablo walking through the house however he pleases, but instead of it stopping there, Pablo actually jumps up onto the bed. 

“Hey, bud,” Kun says weakly. 

And then, as if he’s controlled by magic or some higher being, Pablo pads over, dipping his little head under Kun’s arm. Kun doesn’t say anything, barely even breathes as the cat moves, lays under his embrace, kneading the bed underneath him. 

Kun lets out a hushed little noise of pleasure, and the cat starts to purr. Slowly, slowly, Kun moves to pet a soft hand at the cat’s fur, and the purring only grows. 

He’s never been so relieved, and he doesn’t know if it’s the sickness or what, but a tear slips down his face at the sheer, unadulterated comfort of it all.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_12:13 AM_

A hand nudges him awake at his shoulder, and Kun squints. Ten has his face wiped clean, dressed in pajamas. 

“You found a friend,” he says quietly, and he looks to where Pablo is still tucked up alongside Kun. 

“He’s cool,” Kun says, about to slip into tears again. “He’s the best cat that’s ever lived. I love one cat.” 

“Okay, honey,” Ten says, and he pats Kun on the arm. “I guess that fever medication made you a little dopey.” 

“Yeah,” Kun says, crying. “Yeah, I’m emotional.” 

“Okay,” Ten says, and he crawls into bed, winding his arms around Kun’s waist, plastering himself to Kun’s back. “Back to bed.” 

“Okay.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[2/3/18]  
6:33 PM_

They find their rhythm, the three of them together. They find what works, what doesn’t. And they stick to what works. It isn’t always perfect. Sometimes Pablo scratches at things that _aren’t_ his post. Sometimes Ten books a ballroom dancing class for them, and Kun has to muddle through it without seeming too keen to leave. 

“You’re good!” Ten says. “You have a natural grace.” 

“Shut up,” Kun says. “You say that to all the boys.” 

“Nah,” Ten says, kisses him wetly on the cheek. “Just the ones I like a lot.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[28/4/18]  
12:44 PM_

His phone rings, and Kun’s hands are covered with egg and flour. 

“Get that for me?” he asks, continues to dredge the chicken. “Who is it?” 

“Sicheng,” Ten says. “Want me to answer?” 

“Yeah.” 

Ten picks up the phone, answers, “Hey, baby” before listening for a second, answering “yeah, he’s cooking.” 

“Put it on speaker, babe,” Kun tells him, but Ten dutifully ignores him. 

“Hold on, lemme check,” Ten says, holding the bottom of the phone to his shirt before asking, “Are we free next weekend?” 

“I believe so,” Kun says. “What, does he wanna check out that brewery?”

“What, do you wanna check out that brewery?” Ten asks him, and then he waits, patient for the answer before he relays it. “They’re moving.” 

“They’re _what_?” 

“You deaf?” Ten asks. “They’re moving.” 

“Moving where?” Kun asks. 

“He didn’t say.” 

“Maybe _ask_?” 

Ten rolls his eyes, holding the phone up again. “Where are you moving?” 

It’s horrendous, of course. The answer was always going to be horrendous. 

“The suburbs.”  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[5/5/18]  
11:56 AM_

It’s a really nice house, in a really nice area. It shouldn’t be surprising, with the money that Yukhei and Sicheng pull in between the two of them. He just...it’s such a big step, and they’re not even married. 

He voices this concern to Sicheng in the car, Ten riding with Yukhei in the moving van. 

“What, you think we’re gonna break up?” Sicheng laughs. “We’ve been together since sophomore year of college. I think it’s time.” 

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” Kun asks. “What if...what if you decide you aren’t right for each other?” 

“Well,” Sicheng says, and he adjusts himself in the driver’s seat, a hand casual on the steering wheel, “if it comes to that, then we deal with it. Why worry about something that isn’t a problem yet? If we did that, we’d never stop freaking out.” 

_Yeah_ , Kun thinks. _Guess not._

It’s been a while since he’s felt that sort of panic rising up in him, but he watches the road, lets the asphalt slip beneath them, spit back out the other side. 

Sicheng turns down the radio. 

“Are you worried?” 

“About what?” Kun asks. 

“About you and Ten,” Sicheng says. “About like, buying a house with him or whatever.” 

“It’s too early for that. It’s too early to even think about it.” 

“But you’ve thought about it,” Sicheng says, and he looks over, shoots Kun a little smile. “Yeah, you’ve thought about it.” 

_Yes_ , Kun thinks. _I have._  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_3:32 PM_

It takes a lot longer to move them than it did to move Ten. They’ve got more stuff, way more stuff. And once they get there, Sicheng points them where to move certain things even though they probably could have figured it out from the labels. 

While he carries a box into the kitchen, he explores the little house. It’s a perfect starter, and he’s sure the real estate agent said the same. But it’s nice, good appliances, clean, granite counters. For a moment, he imagines himself at this counter, Ten at his waist. Pablo padding through. 

He wasn’t lying. He thinks it’s too early to even think about something like that. He tries to be pragmatic, practical. But something about Ten makes him want to throw all that into the garbage disposal. 

“Babe,” Ten calls. “I need your help lifting this.” 

“Coming,” Kun calls back, amazed at the way his voice travels.  
  


⇠ ⇢

  
  
_[7/5/18]  
6:12 PM_

It's all he can think about for the next two days, and eventually, he's about to burst. So he decides he has to do something. Say something. Because he’s got something to say. And when he has something to say, he’s just gotta get it out there, say it and get gone. 

“I have something to say,” Kun tells him. 

Ten is resting on the couch, Pablo draped across him. 

“Okay. Say it.” 

“I don’t wanna buy a house until we’re sure we’re gonna get married,” Kun says. “I think buying a house is just as big a step as getting married is, maybe even bigger. So I don’t want to do it until I’m sure we’re gonna get married.” 

“O-Okay?” Ten says. 

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“So do you want to get married?” Kun asks. 

Ten's perfect brow furrows. 

“Are you fucking proposing to me?” Ten asks. 

“Oh, uh. Sort of, I guess,” Kun says, and then he haphazardly gets down on one knee. 

“Sort of? You _guess_?” 

“Yes?” 

Ten rolls his eyes, and as he stands, Pablo moves to the other side of the couch. Ten moves, steps around the coffee table. 

“Do you wanna get married?” 

Kun swallows thickly as he looks up at Ten. “Eventually, yes.” 

“And you wanna buy a house? Be corny together? Have a garden and shit with me? Maybe, like, I dunno, grow zucchini in the yard?” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. "Eventually." 

Ten smiles, like he can see into the future, like he's envisioning it all. 

“And you wanna adopt some kids maybe?” Ten asks. “Like you said before?” 

“Yeah.” 

He offers up his hands, and Kun takes them, lets himself be lifted to his feet as Ten puts an arm around the small of Kun’s back. They share each other's air, and Kun can feel the push of Ten's breathing against him. His chest moving. His heart beating. He can hear his own in his ears, and he must be so red, red all over. He can't help it. The nerves are coursing through him. 

“And you wanna do it all with me?” 

“Yeah,” Kun says. “Only with you.” 

“You’re sure? Like positive? No taking it back later? I'll get my feelings hurt, you know,” Ten says, and he looks incredibly fragile for that moment. Sometimes Kun forgets that he’s not some superhuman. It’s easy to forget, when someone is so very perfect. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Kun answers. 

“Okay,” Ten says, and he kisses Kun softly. “Let’s do it, then. Eventually.” 

It all builds in him, swells like the orchestra’s crescendo, and _eventually_ tastes like now when it comes with a kiss to seal the promise.

**Author's Note:**

> hello out there. 
> 
> this is largely unedited bc i just wrote the last 6k in one sitting bc i cannot look at it any longer. i hope it doesn't show too badly kljsdakjlg
> 
> i intended this fic to be a Through Marriage fic, but it started to get up there in length, so i think someday, i will come back with a Part Deux to think about the very cute ways kunten will annoy each other after they have a mortgage and are planning a wedding ^^
> 
> if u are mishel, i hope u enjoyed this, bud ♡ i love you muchly ♡ 
> 
> if u are not mishel, i still hope u enjoyed! and i also love you muchly. i dont know why i've separated it like this. im sorry. 
> 
> feel free to Leave Me A Comment and such, because i do love praise. ok. anyway. peace out, mo—johfam. 
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/wolfsupremacist) | [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/wolfsupremacist)


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